


i'd be tangled up without you

by strangetowns



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Married Life, Post-Canon, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 15:44:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11535339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangetowns/pseuds/strangetowns
Summary: He thinks they started creating a life together long before either of them even thought about marriage.He thinks they’re probably never going to stop.And he doesn’t want to.(And he never did.)-Isak and Even and their thoughts about being married.





	i'd be tangled up without you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [askynote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/askynote/gifts).



> Alternatively: my attempt at filling the prompt of "recently married fluff"???
> 
> First of all, thank you [Vila](https://askybison.tumblr.com/) for lending me your talents! This is small thanks in return, but hopefully it doesn't disappoint too badly <3
> 
> Thank you also to [Lydia](https://boxesfullofsanasmiling.tumblr.com/) for being the best beta reader in the world, and to my peeps in #TeamTakeItEasy for letting me borrow their ideas. Title is pulled from "[Hands Down](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rN2qXjvEMcM)" by The Greeting Committee.

The rain taps a soft rhythm against the window. There’s no thunder, no lightning. A gentle start to a sunday morning. If sound came in colors, Isak thinks this one would come in a friendly grey.

He’s been up for some time. Didn’t bother checking the clock when he first woke up, so he doesn’t know how long. Figures it doesn’t matter all that much. It was nice, anyway, to lie there and not have to worry about how the passing seconds are touching him.

He’s on his phone now, idly scrolling through Instagram and switching to his group chat with his friends whenever they send him a message. Even stirs next to him. The covers are drawn up to his naked shoulders, his face half-buried in the pillow. Isak feels a nose nudge against his arm, burrowing closer. He smiles.

“Morning, babe,” Isak says.

Even says nothing in answer, just presses a tired kiss to the inside of Isak’s elbow and exhales softly. He pulls the covers tighter around him.

Looks like it’s going to be a quiet day.

(But Isak doesn’t mind.)

“The guys are being ridiculous,” Isak says.

Even breathes out a laugh. The feeling of it tingles against Isak’s skin. “Like you have any room to talk,” he says, voice still rough from sleep.

Isak rolls his eyes. Barely awake, and Even still has the energy to disrespect him like this. Unbelievable. “But they’re _harassing_ me,” he says, not bothering to keep the petulance out of his voice.

When he looks down, he can see that Even’s mouth is curved upward in a small smile. “What’re they saying?”

“Magnus keeps asking me what married life is like. He won’t listen when I say it’s literally exactly the same as, like, not married life.”

“Hey, now, what?” Even says. Apparently, this is an important enough cause to make him roll over so he can raise his eyebrows at Isak properly. “No, it’s not.” 

(Note for the future - just question the integrity of their marriage to get Even to move in the morning.)

“Uh huh,” Isak says.

“It’s _not_ ,” Even insists. “Married life is the shit.”

Isak snorts as he sets his phone aside. He drops his head down on Even’s chest, not quite able to stop the feeling of contentment from flooding his heart when Even’s arms wrap warmly around him. Married or not, he’s pretty sure he’s always going to think Even’s hugs are the best thing in the world. “And our life together before we got married wasn’t the shit?”

Even’s fingers brush over Isak’s back, tracing light patterns across his skin he can’t be bothered to follow. Feels good, though, even if he doesn’t know what Even’s drawing. 

(Always feels good.)

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Even says fondly.

“So what did you mean?” Isak skims his fingers over the line of Even’s collarbone, enjoying himself more than he probably should when Even shivers under his touch.

“Hm,” Even says.

Isak waits for him to say something more after that. He waits a moment. Another. He counts the seconds that go by in his head.

He loses count about three times before he gives up. “Are you going to say anything?” Isak says, poking Even in the ribs.

“Still thinking,” Even says.

Isak’s face lights up in triumph. “No, you’re not,” he says. “You can’t think of anything. Ha! Told you!”

“Shush,” Even says. “I can’t think when you’re being so loud.”

Isak pokes Even’s sides a few more times, for good measure. “You can’t think of anything because it’s the _same_. Other than the fucking paperwork, maybe.”

“Does it feel the same to you?” Even says.

Isak almost says something facetious to that, too, but there’s something about the tone of Even’s voice that makes him halt in his tracks. It’s still light, or at least it sounds like Even trying to be light. If he did make a joke in answer Even probably wouldn’t be too upset about it, would just keep playing along. Still, there’s a weight to his words Isak can’t miss. This is a question Even wants a real answer to, even if he won’t say that out loud.

Isak thinks about it, then. Really thinks about it. He didn’t think about what he said to Magnus earlier, but that’s probably worth thinking about, too.

(Even’s questions are always worth thinking about.)

And he thinks about what it was like to live with Even before they got married, and what it’s like to live with him now. He thinks about the calendar on their bedroom wall, still marked with the countdown to their wedding day, with all their scribbles in the margins of things they shouldn’t forget and things they want to do together. All the things that came before. All the things that came after.

He thinks they started creating a life together long before either of them even thought about marriage.

He thinks they’re probably never going to stop.

And he doesn’t want to. 

(And he never did.)

“Being married to you doesn’t change the way I feel about you,” Isak says.

Even’s grip around him tightens. “No?”

“I love you just the same,” Isak says.

Silence, for a beat.

The rain falls on, outside their window.

Even shifts. Presses a kiss to Isak’s hair.

“Huge sap,” he says.

There’s too much in his voice (too much awe, too much love; too much _everything_ ) for Isak to even pretend he’s offended.

“And what about you?” Isak asks, curious despite himself. “Is it any different for you?”

Even gives him a contemplative look. “You were wrong,” he says. “I can think of something.”

“Me? wrong?” Isak says, raising an eyebrow. “Such accusations.”

“You were,” Even says seriously. He reaches for Isak’s hand, fingers tangling together effortlessly. Brings it up to his mouth.

Presses a soft kiss to the ring around Isak’s finger.

Isak’s heart feels stuck in his throat.

“I can call you my husband, now,” Even says.

Silence, again.

Isak stares at Even, and Even stares back.

“And you called _me_ a huge sap,” Isak says indignantly.

Even bursts out laughing, eyes shining brightly with the force of his grin. And shit, Isak can’t stay mad for long when faced with a sight like that. Not when Even’s this happy.

(And yeah, maybe this is the happiest he’s been, too.)

“Love you,” Even says, and it sounds the same it always has, but it doesn’t mean any less.

Isak lifts himself up. Kisses the crinkled corner of Even’s left eye. Kisses his cheek. The line of his jaw. 

Kisses him.

“Love you, too,” Isak says against his mouth.

(That could never mean any less, either.)


End file.
